


Sugar Rush

by Paruu



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, linked universe (fandom)
Genre: Artist Appreciation Project!, Fluff, Four can't sleep but that's okay this time, Gen, It's fun inside Four's head, Red is a very good boy, The Colours literally being siblings, based on an art work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paruu/pseuds/Paruu
Summary: Sleep was… a problematic issue for most of the Links, to say the least. Some of them had to deal with continuous nightmares, bad memories coming back at this ever so convenient time, or were starting to think.The thoughts that kept them awake often to the first hours of dawn, were they good or bad? Did they continue to flow because they brought deliverance or a threat of becoming real once they take irrefutable control over the mind? Maybe they were arguing with each other?In Four's head, the arguments were long and loud.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Sugar Rush

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for dream-thunder on the LU discord server!! Her art is absolutely wonderful and adorable, go check out her stuff!! I had the pleasure of witnessing those amazing pieces of art this fic's based on being made from beginning to end and let me tell you, that was an absolutely fantastic experience!!
> 
> You should also go read Seeking7's fics, she's the one behind all of this and an incredible writer, you won't waste time with her stories!!
> 
> https://sta.sh/21r2nivoc2ab You can find the original art here!! Anyway, have fun with this little story!

Sleep was… a problematic issue for most of the Links, to say the least. Some of them had to deal with continuous nightmares, bad memories coming back at this ever so convenient time, or were starting to think. 

The thoughts that kept them awake often to the first hours of dawn, were they good or bad? Did they continue to flow because they brought deliverance or a threat of becoming real once they take irrefutable control over the mind? Maybe they were arguing with each other?

In Four's head, the arguments were long and loud.

It took years upon years of practice and compromises, but the four aspects of his personality were finally able to divide the headspace between them so that everyone could have their own corner. They even managed to develop a visible and  _ tangible  _ retrospection of a house inside! Each Colour got his own room which could be decorated in accordance with the owner’s personal taste and desires.

It did not, however, mean that the fights had vanished once the brothers had created places where they could hide until they’re ready to apologise. The entire introduction to this story wouldn’t have made sense then.

They were still living together, just moved to a bigger house, to put it like that. And in a big house happen big troubles. The mess is being made very easily and suddenly there’s no one to clean it. Things get damaged and break, even though they’re technically not physical. Things get lost.

And what is a better time to look for your missing belongings than the dead of night?

Red knocked on the green door and opened it before his brother could even think of answering. The colour scheme of the room doesn’t need explaining, everything was painted in different shades of greens, from hunter green to celadon, to almost white in some places but still with this fresh, inviting feeling of an early spring forest where the last bits of snow are finally being fought off by the new life. 

Even more so because it was filled with plants. There were vines growing on the walls and house plants in pots everywhere, on the floor, the shelves, the dressers, and hanging below the ceiling. The air in this room was clean and easy to breathe, the scent of growth and earth was pleasant to the nose but most importantly masked the smell of metal that would’ve taken over this small space otherwise.

That is because Green’s walls were decorated with weapons. Swords of various kinds were displayed above his desk and were the first thing the guest would see upon entering. Next to them, over the couch with a few fluffy pillows, hanging on the ivy-covered wall was an impressive looking shield. The vines made it seem like an ancient relic hidden somewhere deep in the woods, away from the human eye.

He forged this, and many more, all by himself but only his finest works made it on display. The tools and some of the materials he was using had their place on the other wall. Hung neatly on special hangers were hammers, tongs, and screwdrivers, and on the shelves squeezed in free spaces were some of the materials he was using. Everything had its rightful spot.

But those were about the only things sorted out in this room.

The rest was… not so tidy, to say the least. Papers and trash of all kinds were laying around the floor, some half squashed and written on, others practically untouched. There was a trash can next to the desk but it was almost empty. Most of the garbage never even made it close to it. Yet, that was nothing compared to the desk itself.

It was big, hand made, supported by a short drawer on the side where a leg was somehow inconvenient to have. Lots of small clutter Red didn’t really know the usage for were placed there, among countless sheets of unused paper that would soon make its way to the carpet, writing equipment, a scale, and… was that a pile of dirt?

Why Green was keeping all those there was a mystery to Red. He had a perfectly usable chest over there! And it was probably empty. He could just stack some of them inside and solve the problem, but apparently, it wasn’t an option or even a case to discuss. Green was sitting in the middle of his mess, swinging on his chair, dangerously so, probably planning his next project.

“What is it, Red?” He asked when his brother entered the room, seemingly unbothered by his sudden visit. He was pretty used to them after all.

“Have you seen the cookie jar I left in the kitchen?”

“Cookies?” Green frowned. “No, I haven’t seen any.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you didn’t notice when you grabbed them and put it somewhere between all those rocks you have here?”

“No, I’m sure I didn’t. I haven’t really left my room today.”

“Hmm, fine,” Red sighed, “But let me know if you find it, okay?”

“Sure thi—” Green started but never got to finish his sentence because Red had already left, slamming the door a little too hard. He smirked to himself and looked at one of the shelves on his tool wall. A familiar jar of freshly baked cookies looked back.

  
  


***

  
  


Red made his way across the corridor and knocked on the door coloured purple. This time, he waited for its owner to respond, but when after approximately two seconds no sound came out, he casually let himself in.

What a fool he was to think Green’s room was messy. He doesn’t visit Vio’s as much so some part of his mind must have forgotten about the mix of mismatched carpets and rugs covering the floor that, despite technically being in different shades of the same colour didn’t look good next to each other.

On top of that were books. Lots and lots of countless titles, some of them opened somewhere in the middle and waiting to be picked up again, others, a little more lucky ones, were piled up on top of each other next to the door, threatening to collapse if you breathe out too strong.

There was a telescope standing idly in the corner, facing a wall. Why did Vio have it? Red guessed it was a very fancy thing that smart people would want to have and that’s why he got it but he had no use for it here. Even if they had windows, it wasn’t like he could just look out of them and see what’s outside the headspace. The stars didn’t reach this far, no matter how bright they shone.

Next to it, along the wall stood a long, low table with more clutter stacked on it. There were more books, some paper, a writing quill, and candles. There was also another, big, candleholder next to the table. 

The entire room was dimly lit in general, the only source of light being the few candles placed here and there. Red was intrigued that someone as reasonable as Vio would keep fire so close to this many flammable objects. Turns out they really were brothers after all.

The opposite side of the room was in a similar state. There was a tall bookshelf, reaching all the way up to the ceiling and filled to the brim with tomes of various sizes and thickness (Red was positively surprised that most of them were actually where they belonged to). A ladder was leaned against it but looking at it, Red wasn’t sure if Vio was able to get to the highest shelf, even after climbing on the last rung.

And there yet  _ another _ low, long shelf next to it! He had so much empty space to put things in but barely used any of it. This one was filled only about halfway through, the contents not varying much from the stuff found anywhere else in the room. There was also one more above it, almost empty. A plant was sitting on it, looking a little sad and gloomy and… not very alive. Vio may have an exceptional memory but could never remember to take care of things that don’t literally scream at him to do so.

The wall opposite the entrance housed a full-sized mirror and three singular shelves with rocks and a fairy figure placed on them. And right there, in the corner, on a beanbag, was Vio. He spared no more than one glance from above his book to look at Red when he came in to the room.

“What is it?” Vio asked.

“Did you clean in here?” Red tilted his head.

“Oh, you noticed! How nice of you.” Vio chirped but didn’t take his eyes off of the text before him. “But I assume you’re not here to compliment my efforts.”

“Have you seen the cookie jar I left in the kitchen?” 

“No.” he flipped the page.

“You sure you didn’t take it? And it’s not thrown somewhere with your books?” Red looked around, inspecting the room in search.

“I am sure.” Vio said, irritated by the other’s inquisitive interruption. “Now, as you can see, I’m a little busy so it would be highly appreciated if you left me alone and went to torment Blue instead.”

Red squizzed his eyes in thought, “I may do just that.” He left the room slowly, keeping eyes glued to Vio to the very last second.

When the door finally shut and there was no sign of Red left, Vio stood up from his beanbag and grabbed the ladder. He leaned it against the wall and climbed to one of his highest shelves where, next to the not-particularly-lively plant, a glass jar with sweets was sitting. He took a triumphant cookie out and returned to his book.

***

  
  


After knocking on the last, blue door, a response came almost immediately.

“What?” Said Blue. The sounds of rhythmic hits that were coming out of his room suddenly halted.

“I’m coming in!” Red announced and did just that.

Blue’s room was vastly different from the rest of his brothers’. It looked and felt colder, yes, because of the lack of plants or any form of heating visible, but also because of its colour palette. The blues, even the darker ones, always made Red shiver a little. This combination, turning from icy to navy, brought him to the middle of an arctic ocean and told him to dip his feet in the water.

But most importantly, it was  _ clean _ , perfectly put together, and tided up, just as if he was expecting a very important guest to arrive any minute. 

Next to the entrance was a big shelf with six slots. each one filled with boxes or small ornaments he had put them to not leave an empty space. He had weapons hanging on the wall but, unlike Green, he didn’t only have swords. There was a bow and quiver, a hammer, a boomerang, even a shovel managed to fit in there.

He had a calendar with a few dates marked on it, a very long shelf stretching through the entire wall with different figures, statuettes, and rocks lined up evenly on it, a sofa with many small cushions, and a coffee table. Just a few small objects were laying on it. 

It almost didn’t look like someone was actually living there, Red thought. It was too perfect, too pretty, like those pre-arranged rooms they put together in furniture shops. The only thing someone could argue wasn’t matching was the boxing bad hung in the corner where Blue was currently standing, ready to hit it again.

“I left a cookie jar in the kitchen. Have you seen it by any chance?”

“What? No. You should’ve watched your stuff better, now you’re paying for your own negligence.” Blue took a swing at the bag.

“Can you promise me you didn’t put it with all your figurines?” Red frowned and crossed his arms on his chest.

“I do not need to promise you anything, I didn’t take your stupid cookies!” Blue snapped. “And these are  _ not _ figurines, they’re trophies!”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.” Red shrugged. “So you’re saying you don’t have it?”

“I am. You can leave now or I’ll punch something other than this bag next.”

Red didn’t need to hear more, he just left and closed the door. After a while, when Blue was convinced he wasn’t there anymore, he took off his boxing gloves and came up to the sofa. He stepped on it to reach the shelf above and adjusted a certain glass container. It was a little too far to the left.

  
  


***

  
  


Red returned to his own room, ruby door opening with a tiny creak. He instantly felt warmth entering his body. Was coming from the firewood burning away in the chimney or straight out of his own heart? It was hard to tell. 

He surrounded himself with some of his many cushions and plushies and made himself cosy on the couch. A snack was waiting for him on a small, mushroom-shaped table next to it but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. More than hungry, he was feeling happy, proud of himself, and his job well done.

All of his brothers have successfully received cookies he had made for them, but acted way more secretive about it than he anticipated. Were they afraid he’s going to get mad? The sheer thought of it and images of the others’ apologetic faces made him cackle.

His eyes turned left, to the shelf, and the infamous cookie jar which he’s supposedly been looking for the entire evening, resting peacefully on it. Or one of the four he had prepared, to be exact.

All left to do for him now was to swing in his hanging armchair to get a little more tired, turn off the lights, put his stuffed aminals to bed, and then go to sleep. He was going to have sweet dreams tonight and hoping his brothers would too. 

  
  


***

  
  


Four was laying in his bedroll, stars above him starting to shine dimmer and dimmer as dawn began to approach slowly. Twilight has just woken up for the last watch of the night and noticed him being fully awake.

“Smithy?” He asked quietly, “Why aren’t you sleeping? Is something wrong?”

“No,” He said, smiling to himself, “Quite the opposite.”


End file.
